


Running Out Of Time

by QuickSilverFox3



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon Compliant, Gen, Suspense, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:08:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29049672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickSilverFox3/pseuds/QuickSilverFox3
Summary: Charlie is trapped in one of the dragon enclosures. And the dragon is going to wake up soon...
Kudos: 2





	Running Out Of Time

**Author's Note:**

> Written for THC competition on ff.net  
> Prompt: [Time (of Day)] Early morning

Charlie could hear the dragons beginning to stir—a low echoing susurrus as their scales brushed against the leaf litter that covered the ground—as the light of the early morning sun began to spill over the crest of the hill. It transformed everything it touched to gold, highlighting the early morning dew that hung clustered on the bent and trampled grass inside the enclosure, fracturing for a moment where it passed through the heavy wards. 

Charlie turned his head to peer at the rising morning sun—the sky bleeding a mess of reds and purples and oranges—and felt the cold shards of fear solidify in his veins. He had a decision to make and was running out of time. 

He couldn’t feel his leg. Charlie had been deliberately not thinking about it as the night had dragged on, but now, with dawn breaking and the dragons waking up, he had to face it. The chill of night was slowly receding as time marched relentlessly onward and he couldn’t wait much longer. 

The numbness had been a blessing, at first, on heels of the white-hot agony of the bone-shattering when he landed, of blood blooming in his mouth as his teeth tore through his own lip to muffle his screams before the darkness overwhelmed him. His memory of the night was a series of jumbled fragments: dried blood encrusting the fresh scrapes on his hands; the stars shining brightly overhead, watching him impassively; the earth slipping and crumbling beneath his hands as he tried to drag himself back up the incline, before finally giving up.

Routine was important in keeping a large sanctuary like this running. Every Keeper knew this, as did the dragons. Their days were broken up by the sound of the heavy bells that hung in the watchtowers that littered the forest and started shortly after daybreak with the first feeding of the day. Charlie turned his head just enough to see his wand lying on the ground far below him, next to the bucket he had dropped when he fell, a new dent in the side, and the large flat stones he had been transporting to the Romanian Longhorns. If it had been meat, then he would be dead.

The bells began to ring, a deep, booming sound that echoed across the valley like thunder. It made Charlie’s very bones ache, loose clods of dirt slipping free and rolling down the hill past him. The sun had risen further, and Charlie could finally see into the shelter tucked alongside the opposite edge of the pen. 

In the early morning sunlight, the normally obsidian scales of the Hebridean Black shone like an oil slick, a murky iridescence that only made the gaps on it’s hide all the more apparent. Charlie felt the blood drain from his face, a distant ringing in his ears that had nothing to do with echoing bells. He truly had the worst luck in the world. The dragon had been affectionately named Hedgehog by Junior Keeper Tess, a woman who seemed to hold no fear and was currently recovering in the hospital after Hedgehog attacked her instead of the food she was delivering. 

He had to move. Charlie had finally run out of time, now that he knew which dragon he was trapped with. The other Keepers would be round with food shortly, heavy buckets of fresh meat with handles that dug into their hands, even through the thick dragonhide gloves, but Charlie couldn’t stay here any longer for them to find him. 

The world dissolved into pain once more as he tried to move, the comforting numbness falling away from him as he tried to move his broken leg. Charlie swallowed back his scream, fingers curled into claws on the earth, and reached up for the next handhold. He had to keep going. He had to get out before—

A low hiss echoing around the enclosure sent the blood draining from his face, his grip tightening on the roots above him. The dragon was awake with the morning sun and was hungry.


End file.
